


I Don't Need to be Forgiven

by sluttybrownie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Crowley Being an Asshole, Demon Dean Winchester, Helpful Crowley, Hurt Dean Winchester, M/M, Protective Sam Winchester, castiel - Freeform, spoilers?, supernatural season 10
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-02
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-04 23:15:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3096191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sluttybrownie/pseuds/sluttybrownie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short story of what I have in mind for the return of the Deanmon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is what I picture when I think of demon Dean. Not stuffing his face with burgers, or drinking himself to death, and certainly not karaoke. Demon Dean is terrifyingly out of control; instead of holding it all in, demon Dean doesn't give a shit what he says or does, even if it hurts the ones he loves.

      Castiel opened the door to Dean's room. "Dean?" he called to the figure relaxing on the bed. No response; he was most likely listening to music. Castiel walked up behind him and gently took out the earbuds. Dean startled and whipped his head around to look at Cas.

     "What the hell?" he asked when he caught his breath.

     Castiel shifted on his feet. "Sorry. I'm checking-"

     "Remember what we said about personal space?" Dean interrupted. He looked angry; Castiel knew he had made a mistake.

     "I'm sorry, Sam just said we should probably check up on you."

     Dean gritted his teeth. "You know, I'm not a baby. I'm not a fucking child. I don't need to be babysat by my little brother."

     "That's why I came," Castiel said bluntly. Dean just glowered at him. "Look, Dean. I'm sorry if you're annoyed, but-"

     "Of course I'm fucking annoyed, Cas!" Dean cut in angrily, "And you know I'm fucking annoyed so don't pull that clueless angel shit with me!"

     "Dean, I wasn't -"

     "Goddamnit Cas. Sometimes I think you intentionally act like that. You've been with humans for fucking years. You've had the whole goddamn experience: stuffing your face with food, getting drunk off your ass- hell, you've even fucked someone. So don't pull that innocent angel I-don't-get-humans shit with me, ok?"

     Castiel fidgeted uncomfortably. "Dean, I would prefer you didn't mention my drinking or my sexual encounters. It-"

     Dean laughed dangerously. "Look how easy it is to make you squirm, Castiel. Why shouldn't I mention them?"

     Castiel looked pained as he said, "Well technically they are sins, and I don't think that-"

     " Is that why you never fucked me, Cas?" Dean cut in sharply. Castiel was stunned. He searched Dean's face for a hint of sarcasm, waiting for a smile to break out, but it remained stone cold. "I don't know what-"

     "You never fucked me because it's a sin, right?" Dean smiled, but it was a deadly look. "Everyone knows, Cas. Everyone knows you have the hots for me. I'm your wet dream, aren't I, Cas? But it's a sin, and poor little pure white innocent baby angel Castiel would never commit such a grave sin. Well you know what Cas?" Dean looked positively giddy, like a snake stalking easy prey. Castiel stood frozen.

     "You're about to."

     In a second Dean had Cas pinned against the wall, one hand on his shoulder and the other at his crotch. "Dean, stop." Castiel was horrified, and attempted to keep his voice stern. "Let go of me."

     "I don't think so," Dean grinned and tilted his head, and then kissed Castiel, forcing his head back against the stone.

     "Dean, stop!" Castiel murmured. He didn't want to hurt him, but he had no choice. He touched his fingers to Dean's face and-

     Nothing happened. Castiel tried again, but Dean remained almost on top of him, forcing his mouth open and pushing in his tongue.

     "Dean, stop!" Castiel tried to shout over the crushing weight of Dean's lips, but it came out as a mutter. "Dean, stop! Please!" He glanced at Dean's forearm. The Mark was red and raised, about to jump out Dean's skin.

     Dean pulled his head back and clamped one hand over Castiel's mouth, while the other fumbled at his belt. He leaned in and whispered,"I know you've fucked someone before, but now you're about to be fucked." He threw Castiel down onto his bed, holding him down while Cas struggled and shouted, "Stop! Dean, please stop!"

     Dean's eyes were deep, dark black. Thy flicked over to the doorway as Sam barreled in.

     "Dean, what the hell?" Sam yelled. While Dean was distracted, Castiel pushed himself to his feet. Sam looked over at him. "Cas, get out. Bar any bunker doors and for God's sake, don't let him touch the blade!" Castiel vanished. Dean turned his fully vicious gaze on Sam.

     "Oh, Sammy, how lovely to see you. Just checking up on me I suppose?" Sam moved between Dean and the doorway.

     "Dean, you don't want to do this. You have to calm down."

     Dean threw his head back and laughed. It was deep, inhuman. "Oh, little brother, _you_ don't want to do this. Run along and I won't have to hurt you." Sam backed up.

     "Exactly, Dean. I'm your little brother. And right now I'm speaking to the part of you who knows that means something. Somewhere inside, you're still there." Sam backed up further, and unsheathed an angel blade. "Fight it, Dean. Fight it, please!" Sam slashed at Dean's arm with blade, turned, and ran. Dean roared as steam poured off the wound, then smiled. He strode out into the hallway, laughing.

     "Where are you, Samantha? I don't like hide and seek." He started silently walking down the hallway. "Where are you Castiel, you little bitch?" He grabbed a hatchet from the array of weapons hanging on the wall and walked on. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pt 2 of I Don't Need to be Forgiven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back by popular demand! I honestly didn't think I had it in me when I started this fic but here's chapter 2 of the culmination of my life's work. I figured I should tell you a little bit about how this fic came into existence, just to explain my hesitation to continue it, but it's totes fine if you just want to skip to the good stuff, I understand. Really. 
> 
> So my interest in fanfiction started, well... How does anyone get involved with fanfiction? You start reading a book, or watching a show or a movie or something, and as you're trawling the Internet for [insert fandom here] you come across this thing called fanfiction, and you think whaaaaaat? More shit about [fandom]? Hells yeah! And then you read ALL of it and feel a little disgusted and then immediately look for more. Anyway to make a long story short I was waist deep in obsession for Supernatural (having, of course, meticulously read through what I'll scientifically call a shit ton of fanfic) when season 10 started. And I was like FUCK YEAH and then (spoilers) Dean was cured of the mark and I was like NO and then I realized of course they're going to reintroduce it how could you not? And then - Inspiration! I had the BEST FUCKING IDEA EVER about how to reintroduce it and also work in some questionably consensual Destiel. I ruminated on this idea for a long ass time, and after the mid season finale I got so hype that I typed out my idea in an explosion of word vomit. And thus a fic was born. And apparently I have more word vomit to share with you guys (ew?)  
> so enjoy!

Dean stalked through the halls of the bunker, eyes bright with the excitement of the hunt. He hadn’t felt this alive in – well, ever since he last went darkside, he thought, smiling. His nostrils flared as he heard the clanking sound of a door in the distance. The sound echoed through halls, and Dean was reminded inexplicably of mice skittering around in their underground nests, and snorted.  
“Something funny?” a voice sounded behind him. He whirled around, bringing the hatchet up to decapitate whomever it was. He was met face to face by Crowley, who was backing away a bit with his hands up. He had the usual smarmy look on his face.  
“Crowley, what the hell!” Dean snarled, lowering the hatchet just an inch. Crowley looked him over, and, nodding appreciatively, said “Hello, Squirrel. Caught a bit of rabies, eh?” Dean stood stock-still.  
Crowley shrugged. “Alright then. I’ll cut to the point.” He held up his hand, and, materializing as if by magic, the First Blade appeared. “This is what you really want, isn’t it?” he asked knowingly. Dean dropped the hatchet.  
“Crowley. Give me the knife,” Dean growled, with fists clenched.  
“Fetch,” Crowley said, and the blade disappeared.  
Dean roared with anger. “Where is it!?”  
“I think you’ll find it at the entrance to this bunker,” Crowley said. Dean took off running. “Happy hunting! Plenty of innocent people to murder out of this rotten bunker!” Crowley shouted after him.  
As Dean’s footfalls faded in the distance, Sam came running up. “Crowley, what the hell?” he asked, breathless.  
“I don’t appreciate the expletive. Nice to see you, Moose.”  
“What are you doing here? Where’s Dean? What the hell?!”  
Crowley smirked. “Slow down, Moose.” He smiled broadly, and spread his hands. “I simply released the squirrel from his cage.”  
Sam lost all control of his motor functions as he yelled, “YOU LET HIM GO???!!!”  
Crowley winced a little. Best not tell him about the blade just yet, he thought. Completely deflated, Sam asked again, “What are you doing here?”  
Crowley rolled his eyes. “Look, why don’t you get your trench-coated friend here, we’ll sit down, have a nice chat, and I’ll answer all your questions.”  
Castiel appeared suddenly next to Sam, and tilted his head to the side. “Crowley, what are you doing here?” he asked.  
“Hey, Blue Eyes. Now that we’re all together, why don’t we all sit and chat?” Crowley snapped his fingers, and then they were in the dining area, with a fire blazing in the hearth, and two pissed off looks on Sam and Cas’s face. Crowley clapped his hands, and said, “Right, shall we get started? I assume you’ll start off with what are you doing here, so let me head you off and explain. I was monitoring you. Now I know,” he said carefully, as two out of three pairs of eyebrows in the room started to rise,” how that sounds, but c’mon, did you really think I’d let the bloody Mark of Cain slip off my radar? You know me better.” Crowley paused, waiting for acknowledgement.  
“How are you monitoring us?” Sam asked, at the same time Castiel asked, “How did you get in?”  
Crowley started to answer when Sam interrupted, “Why did you let Dean go?”  
Now it was Crowley’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “OK. One. King of Hell here. It’s fairly easy for me to monitor you. Sentries, hello. They sense a commotion and here I am. Two. Evil Squirrel left the window open.” Sam looked at him incredulously. “Yeah, I know. He really did. Three. Yeah, I let him go. Do you honestly, honestly think I’d let bloody fucking Mark of Cain and the bloody fucking First Blade loose without a plan? I’ve got it fucking covered. And four, technically I’ve just saved your lives, and I’m feeling really attacked right now, so can we calm down just a little and maybe utter a thank you?”  
“You let Dean free with the first blade?” Castiel said quietly. Crowley took a deep breath and said, “Now, hold on-“  
“Jesus FUCKING Christ,” Sam shouted at Crowley, while behind him Castiel assumed the expression of a shocked puppy. “Jesus Christ, you let him loose with the First Blade? Running wild in the fucking streets? Do you know how many innocent lives you’ve just condemned? You’d better tell me right fucking now exactly where Dean is, do you understand me?”  
“All right, ok, all right. Let me make a phone call.” Crowley rubbed his forehead and walked a little ways off, muttering to himself. “Save your bloody lives, and this is how I’m treated,” he sighed.  
“Fucking Winchesters.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying to decide whether or not to continue this. I'm hopeless when it comes to ending fics; I'd be happy to hand this over to someone wanting to continue it.


End file.
